


The Results of the Night Vale Mini-Fic Party (August 11, 2015)

by Cade Welentine (cadewelentine)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Night Vale Mini-Fic Party, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 6,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4559421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadewelentine/pseuds/Cade%20Welentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of all the Night Vale fics I wrote during the Night Vale Mini-Fic Party on tumblr. There's a little bit of everything mixed in here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cosleia: Write a mini-fic about Carlos going to the library ;)

_Cosleia said:  Write a mini-fic about Carlos going to the library ;)_

* * *

 

Carlos adjusted the strap of his messenger bag so that it was taut against his chest, the bag itself clinging tightly to his side. It contained several very important scientific instruments that were crucial to the completion of his mission.

His cell phone buzzed in his labcoat pocket, and he pulled it out to see a text from Cecil.

Cecil: _Pls dont do this books r not worth it_

It was followed by an emoji of a monkey hiding its face behind his hands. Carlos had tried to tell Cecil that that was “See no evil” on numerous occasions, but Cecil never listened.

Carlos quickly tapped back a response.

Carlos:  _I’ll be fine. A scientist is always fine._

Cecil didn’t respond to that

Carlos stared up at the library building. The facade was crumbling from years of what was essentially abandonment- no Night Vale citizen dared to go in the building (Miss Tamika Flynn excluded, naturally)- and the storm clouds gathering overhead did nothing to make the library more inviting.

Carlos took a deep breath. It was now or never.

And besides, he had nothing to be worried about; he’d had journalism and literature major friends in college- his roommate had been one!- and they’d had to go in libraries, and a little over half of them had survived! Those were relatively great odds! It was just a  _library_. It just held  _books_. They were just  _librarians_. Nothing to be afraid of.

He pushed the old wooden door open, stepping inside.

No turning back now.

The floor was covered in books, that was the first thing Carlos noticed. A lot of the floor-books were biographies of Helen Hunt, but there were a few copies of  _To Kill a Mockingbird_  scattered about (Carlos was sure it was the Night Valian version, which Cecil had explained to him was a non-fiction how-to guide for killing mockingbirds that had mocked you just enough to push you over the edge.)

“Hello?” Carlos called out. He could hear footsteps near the reference desk.

“Is there a librarian in here?” he asked. “I could really use some help.” The librarian hopped up on top of the reference desk, staring him down.

Carlos could feel his whole body go tense and limp at the same time, despite how oxymoronic that may seem.

He plunged his hand into his bag, closing his fist around one of the ultra-scientific instruments he’d brought with him. The librarian inched closer to him. He pulled the instrument out- a blue rubber bone he’d decided Cecil’s dog, Sobaka, could live without. He threw it over the reference desk, and the librarian chased after it.

Carlos heard a telltale squeak, and then he could see the librarian bounding toward him. It stopped short just before it reached him, dropping the bone at his feet.

“You’re not as scary as everyone thinks you are, huh?” Carlos asked, cautiously sticking his hand out. The librarian sniffed it, then decided that it would allow Carlos to pet it.

“You’re just lonely, aren’t you?” he went on, scratching behind the beast’s ears. “You just want someone to play with you and look for books, right?”

The librarian made a noise that Carlos could only describe as a purr. It pushed its head deeper into Carlos’ hand.

“Can you help me find a book?” Carlos grinned, and the librarian took off running. 


	2. Cosleia: "...well THAT wasn't supposed to happen!"

_Cosleia said: "...well THAT wasn't supposed to happen!"_

* * *

 

Carlos frowned at the cake he’d pulled out of the oven, “…well THAT wasn’t supposed to happen!”

Cecil was laughing. Why was Cecil laughing?

“It’s not funny!” Carlos protested.

“No,” Cecil agreed, pecking Carlos on the cheek. “But it is awfully cute.” 


	3. Cosleia: Cecil and Earl, 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any numbered prompts come from this tumblr post: http://alwaysbellamyblake.tumblr.com/post/111909165950/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you

_Cosleia said: Cecil and Earl, 29_

* * *

 

Earl was, to say the least, surprised when he ran into Cecil in the frozen foods aisle of the Ralph’s, carefully examining the nutritional information on the box of a cauliflower crust pizza.

Earl cleared his throat, “You, uh, you don’t like cauliflower.” He didn’t know if that was something Cecil would have remembered; Cecil often forgot details about himself and his past.

Cecil looked up from the box, his head turning in the direction of Earl.

“Earl Harlan, is that you?” Cecil asked, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smile.

“Yeah.” Earl nodded. “Where’ve you been, Ceece?”  
“Well, I just got back from Europe.” Cecil explained, pulling on the glass door of the freezer case and placing the pizza box back on its shelf. “I hit the usual spots, Svitz, Franchia, Luftnarp.”

“Luftnarp?” Earl echoed. “That must have been nice.”

“Mmhmm,” Cecil hummed. “The ‘Country of Love’. My travelling partner tried a few moves on me while we were there, but I thought of you the whole time.”

“Oh.” Earl said, and he could suddenly feel the awkwardness of the whole situation multiply. “Oh, Cecil, I-” He stepped to the side so that Cecil could see the redheaded little toddler sitting in the shopping cart and playing with the week’s circular.

“Oh.” Cecil said, eyes going wide. “I see.”

“Yeah.” Earl replied, aware of the fact that he was suddenly gesturing with his left hand so that Cecil could see his wedding ring.

“I- forget I said anything.” Cecil decided.

“Cecil, please don’t be upset.” Earl tried. “I- I thought you were dead. You’d been gone so long, and nobody had heard from you- not even your sister! We, uh, we all decided we had to move on.”

“Yeah, no, I understand.” Cecil nodded. “Standard extended travel protocol.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Earl agreed.

“Just, uh, know that we could have had something, Earl,” Cecil said. “Always remember that.”


	4. Doctor-sherly: Steve and Abby, 37

_Doctor-sherly: Steve and Abby, 37_

* * *

 

Abby was miserable, to say the least. Of all of the nights Big Rico could have asked her to work, this was the night he had picked? The night of her senior prom?

The place was empty. The usual Friday night crowd was gathered in the ballroom of the Night Vale Marriott, dressed to the nines in sparkly gowns and tuxedos, dancing the night away and celebrating the fact that they had just graduated less than a week ago.

She thought about the purple dress hanging up in her closet at home, going unworn.

“Stupid Rico.” she muttered under her breath, kicking listlessly at the counter in frustration.

The bell on the top of the door tinkled and she looked up, immediately launching into the rehearsed and robotic greeting that Rico expected her to spout off.

“Welcome to Big Rico’s, no one does a slice like Big Rico,” she sighed. “No- Steve Carlsberg?”

“Hi, Abby,” Steve said with a small wave. “Your brother said I’d find you here.”

“Shouldn’t you be at prom with everybody else?” she asked. He was, after all, dressed in an admittedly ill-fitting tux.

“Nah,” Steve shrugged, placing his hand on the counter in an attempt to lean against it and look sauve. Except his hand missed and he stumbled, which made Abby giggle.

“It’s not really my scene, you know?” Steve continued, righting himself. “Besides, I like this song.” He nodded in the direction of the jukebox, which was playing some song Abby didn’t recognize, but it sounded like the kind of thing Cecil would listen to.

Steve held his hand out to her over the counter, “Wanna dance?”


	5. Longhairshortfuse: Five sentence ficlet: "You want to know the worst thing?"

_Longhairshortfuse said: Not sure if I sent you a prompt (meh, memory *shrugs*) Five sentence ficlet: "You want to know the worst thing?"_

* * *

 

“You want to know the worst thing?” Cecil asked once he had finished recounting the whole ordeal that poor Intern Maureen had gone through before finally deciding to quit. Carlos couldn’t imagine what horrors would qualify as “the worst thing” after hearing that story. What could be worse than being hit by a hatchet?

“Sure,” Carlos agreed hesitantly.

Cecil suddenly turned into a five year old boy, “She’s not even gonna copy edit my Jaws fanfiction anymore!” 


	6. Cosleia: There was no way, no way on Earth or the Moon or even in the Void he was getting out of this one.

_Cosleia said: There was no way, no way on Earth or the Moon or even in the Void he was getting out of this one._

* * *

 

“Pull harder!” Cecil cried, voice muffled and uncharacteristically hard to understand.

“I’m pulling as hard as I can!” Earl protested, giving it another sharp yank.

“Jesus, fuck, Earl, be gentle! I am fragile.” Cecil whined, despite the fact that he was the one encouraging Earl to go hard just a moment ago.

“I can’t get it.” Earl sighed. Cecil let out a little whimper. There was no way, no way on Earth or the Moon or even in the Void he was getting out of this one.

He was most certainly stuck in this dress.


	7. Cosleia: He'd said it himself---"Bananas are hardly that slippery, but watch your step anyway"---and now he really wished he'd taken his own advice.

_Cosleia said: He'd said it himself---"Bananas are hardly that slippery, but watch your step anyway"---and now he really wished he'd taken his own advice._

* * *

 

He’d said it himself—“Bananas are hardly that slippery, but watch your step anyway”—and now he really wished he’d taken his own advice.

Actually, he wished that the interns would take care to clean up after themselves.

“It’s hard to remember to clean up when we’re facing our deaths!” Intern Jesus called up from the bottomless pit in the intern breakroom. Cecil hadn’t known he’d aired his grievances out loud, though it was nice to know that Jesus was still with him.

“That’s no excuse,” Cecil decided. “According to those tapes I was an intern too, you know, and I highly doubt that I was nearly as messy as all of you. _”_


	8. Cosleia: Please write a fic wherein Steve Carlsberg is somehow the best man at Cecil and Carlos' wedding and, guess what, he's lost the rings.

_Cosleia said: Please write a fic wherein Steve Carlsberg is somehow the best man at Cecil and Carlos' wedding and, guess what, he's lost the rings._

* * *

 

Carlos had asked Steve to be his best man despite Cecil’s protests. (“He’s your brother in-law, Ceece. You have to let him be in the wedding.”) And for the most part, Steve had proven himself to be very competent. Sure, he’d made a few silly, sitcom reminiscent mistakes, like accidentally getting paint strippers for the bachelor party rather than the kind of strippers usually associated with bachelor parties. Not that Carlos minded, necessarily, and the paint stripping gave him a chance to do some very scientific tests on the composition of Night Vale paint.

But other than that, Steve had been a great best man!

Until right now, when he was panickedly fumbling through his tuxedo pockets for the wedding rings.

“I know this is a bad phrase to start a marriage with,” Cecil started. “But I told you so.”

“Cecil, be quiet.” Abby hissed, jabbing her brother in the back with her elbow. “He’s doing his best.”

“Oh, he’s always ‘doing is best’, Abigail,” Cecil huffed. “But what is his best doing for the community, hmm?”

“Ignore him, Steve,” Carlos said. “Take your time; you’re doing fine.”

“Uh, Cecil? Carlos?” Steve laughed nervously. “Funny story- I lost the wedding rings?”  
“Steve Carlsberg!” Cecil whined, stomping his foot and pouting like a child.

“Oh, that’s okay, Steve!” Dana piped up from the line of groomsmaids behind Cecil. “I thought this might happen, so I brought a set of my own.”

“Aw, look at that,” Carlos grinned. “See it all worked out.”

“Yes, lucky for Steve, my former intern had the foresight to prepare for one of his _idiotic_  mistakes.” Cecil agreed.

“Cecil.” Abby warned.

“At least he didn’t bring any of his dry scones.” Cecil decided.

“Well,” Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck. “ _Actually._..”

 

(inspired in part by the Cecil in the bridesmaid dress in this post: <http://videntefernandez.tumblr.com/post/108030969743/can-you-draw-your-depiction-of-steve-carlsberg> I tried to find the original post with the drawing but I couldn’t :()


	9. Doctor-sherly: Steve and Abby, 13

_Doctor-sherly said: Steve and Abby, 13_

* * *

 

Abby and Steve’s first date had been a horribly disastrous affair at Gino’s. Steve had spilled both his drink all over the both of them, and then he managed to dip his tie into the soup, and then, well, he wasn’t actually quite sure what happened with lasagna, but it had somehow made its way down the front of his shirt and into his lap. He’d apologized profusely, claiming that he must look like a child, which had prompted Abby to burst into tears over how guilty she felt about leaving Janice with Cecil so often. And then she kept hiccuping about how she thought she was a terrible mother. Steve kept insisting that she was a great mother- how could she not be?- while signaling for the check (not in a rush to end the date as much as he was in a rush to get Abby somewhere more private for a small breakdown.).

So needless to say, Steve didn’t think that he’d be getting a second with her anytime soon.

But then she surprised him, calling him up a few days later and inviting him to accompany her to poetry slam that was being held at the local coffee shop (It should be noted that this whole affair occurred before the ban on pens and creative thought.).

And so there they were, sitting at one of the cafe’s too small tables, drinking coffee despite it being nighttime, and sharing a plate of scones.

“My scones are better than these,” Steve remarked, breaking off a chunk of one of them- a chocolate chip one. “These are kind of dry.”

“You bake?” Abby asked.

“Uh-huh!” Steve grinned. “I could make you something sometime, if you want.”

“I’d like that.” Abby smiled, she paused, “I feel safe with you, Steve.”

“Oh, uh, I feel safe with you too!” Steve chirped.

“You wanna get out of here?” Abby asked.

“Uh, sure!” Steve agreed.

Which was how they ended up strolling through Grove Park, giving the shape there a wide berth so as to not accidentally acknowledge it, holding hands and discussing all sorts of things.

Steve went on and on about the lights and arrows in the sky, about how they told him things that were going to happen, about how they revealed things to him.

“What do they say about you and me?” Abby wondered.

“Oh, well, they, um, they don’t say anything too specific,” Steve stammered. “I mean, they do say that you really like me, and that, well, heck, you want me to kiss you?”

“Well, go ahead, don’t prove the lights and arrows wrong,” Abby teased. “Kiss me."


	10. Chickadddddd: 18 cecearlos?

_Chickadddddd said: Are you still doing fic thing? 18 cecearlos?_

* * *

 

“Did you know it was Cecil’s birthday?” Carlos asked when Earl finally trudged out of the bedroom. He was used to Earl sleeping late- he worked late nights, often not getting home until one or two in the morning.

“What?” Earl yawned. “Oh, yeah. I did.”

“It’s weird that he didn’t make a big deal about it.” Carlos remarked. “He makes a big deal about every other special occasion.”

“Eh, it’s not that weird.” Earl said, pouring some Flaky-O’s into a bowl. He never put milk in his cereal, he ate it dry, which Carlos always found strange. “He kind of got out of the habit of celebrating it in high school. His mom was hiding all the time, and Abby was at college, so it wasn’t like he had anyone at home to make a big deal about it.”

“Yeah, but he has people at home to make a big deal about it now.” Carlos insisted. “We should do something for him.”

“What did you have in mind?” Earl asked, already thinking that he was much too tired for something like this. He wasn’t young anymore, as much as he liked to pretend he was. He had a kid and a house and a job and two boyfriends, all of which were incredibly exhausting, despite how much he loved them.

“A surprise party?” Carlos suggested. “We’ll make a wheat free cake and- and we can get pizzas from Big Rico’s, and we’ll invite Abby and Janice and Steve and Josie and all the Erikas and Dana and- and the intern du jour. I’ll get some balloons and some crepe paper. We can make a banner. And then Cecil will come home from work and we’ll all shout ‘surprise’ and we’ll hug him and he’ll be so happy, Earl!”

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had.” Earl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Does that mean you’re not in?” Carlos asked, his face dropping.


	11. Cosleia: Please write a fic about Roger Harlan's first campout :)

_Cosleia said: Please write a fic about Roger Harlan's first campout :)_

* * *

 

The inside of the tent was the exact kind of dark that Cecil Palmer would have loved and that Earl Harlan hated. All you could see was black, no matter where you looked. The darkness was oppressive, it prevented you from even looking at your own appendages. For all you knew, you no longer had appendages in that level of darkness. Perhaps you were just a soul.

So it was, in short, dark enough that Earl was uncomfortable.

And naturally, that was when Roger decided he needed to ask all sorts of horrific questions.

They’d started off innocently enough.  
“Dad, what if a spiderwolf starts sniffing around our campsite?”

“That’s not going to happen, buddy.”

“But what if it does?”

“Then I’ll fight it.”

“But it’s too dark to see it. What if it gets you?”

“…go to sleep, Roger.”

“…”

“…”

“Dad?”  
“Yeah?”

“When’s my birthday?”

“Ehh, time is weird.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“When do you want your birthday to be?”

“Well, I like October.”

“Okay. It’s in October then. What day?”

“The 29th.”

“Great. October 29th is when we’ll celebrate your birthday then.”

“Thanks, Dad.”  
“No problem, buck.”

“…”

“…”

“Dad, how come you don’t know when my birthday is?”

“…go to sleep, Roger.”

“…”

“…”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“What if we get swallowed up by the endless void?”

“Now you’re asking questions like Uncle Cecil.”

“Yeah, well, Uncle Cecil asks good questions. What if we get swallowed up by the endless void?”

“…go to sleep, Roger.”

“…”

“…”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you in love with Uncle Cecil?”

“…”

“…”

“…go to sleep, Roger.”


	12. Longhairshortfuse: Prompt - Marcus & anyone, 22

_Longhairshortfuse said: Prompt - Marcus & anyone, 22_

* * *

 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” Marcus drawled, leaning against the kitchen island.

Earl jumped, managing to bang his head against one of the copper plated pots hanging above the stovetop.

 _Of course_  his boss was mostly nude behind him. _Of course_.

“W-what?” He laughed nervously, rubbing the injured spot on his scalp.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, Harlan,” Marcus repeated, smirking in a way that most definitely did not make Earl’s heart skip a beat.

“That’s, uh, that’s ridiculous!” Earl protested. “And completely unprofessional!”

“That doesn’t mean it’s impossible.” Marcus teased.

“I- um- I’m your chef,” Earl stuttered. “I don’t- what are you _doing_?” Marcus had hoisted himself up onto the island facing Earl, his legs spread apart.

“Just, y’know, chillin’.” Marcus smirked. Earl squeaked, burying his face in his hands. He could feel a solid, deep blush creep across his whole body.

Earl tried to protest, to insist that he was not blushing because of any romantic nor sexual attraction, but all that came out was a breathy, “Mr. Vansten!”


	13. Longhairshortfuse: 5 sentence fic prompt - Dana & Carlos - "I had a flashback."

_Longhairshortfuse said: 5 sentence fic prompt - Dana & Carlos - "I had a flashback."_

* * *

 

Meeting had been Dana’s idea- she said she needed to talk to him.

Coffee had been Carlos’ idea- a neutral ground where neither of them would feel any pressure to act a certain way.

Leaving Cecil at home had been a necessity- he was, in every sense of the word, a blabbermouth and couldn’t be trusted to keep a secret if his life depended on it (Carlos would find it annoying if it weren’t just a part of who his boyfriend was.).

Things were awkward until Carlos finally asked, “So, uh, what’s up?”

“Well,” Dana said, her fingers picking at the cardboard cozy on her coffee cup. “I had a flashback.”


	14. Chickadddddd: Janice and anyone - 47 :D

_Chickadddddd said: Janice and anyone - 47 :D_

* * *

 

“Janice, I am so sorry.” Roger hiccupped, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. His face was red and splotchy, like Steve’s that time he accidentally bothered a beehive and got stung.

“It’s okay, it was an accident.” Janice assured him, rubbing small circles on his back with the heel of her hand, the way her mother did when she was crying. She glanced at the door, making sure there wasn’t light creeping into the bedroom from underneath the crack.

“I’m sorry!” Roger cried again. Janice was beginning to think he was too worked up to listen to her. “Please don’t tell my dad, I told him it had stopped happening!”

“Roger, don’t worry about it.” Janice insisted. “I already got rid of them; it’s like it never even happened. No one needs to know.” That wasn’t even a lie to make him feel better, she actually had gotten rid of the evidence. She’d tossed it in the house incinerator. Sure, that was actually meant for municipal mail and jury duty summons, but you could toss a wet pair of cowboy printed boxers in there if you had to.

After all, no one needed to know. 


	15. Chickadddddd: The Erikas - 48

_Chickadddddd said: The Erikas - 48_

* * *

Halloween was an interesting day for the angels (or, not-angels, as it were). While they legally did not exist, there was no law against wearing an angel costume and pretending to be one. So they employed the same trick often seen in sitcoms with aliens or fairies that wanted nothing else than to be able to interact with other people as themselves: they pretended that they were in costume.

As they were recently very wealthy, the Erikas did not trick-or-treat themselves, deeming it unfair to take advantage of the generosity of those who did not have the endless resources that they did, but they did walk alongside smaller kids to help them cross streets and knock on doors with high up knockers and no doorbell in sight.

And if an older kid decided they were going to try to pick on one of the smaller kids, well, the Erikas wouldn’t stand for it.

They’d make a face, or bare their teeth, or any number of things that the humans seemed to find threatening.

Except for that one Erika, you know, the one that was mostly nude?

He wasn’t really into the whole protecting the little ones thing as much as the others were. He’d just cross his arms over his chest, lean back a little ways, and say, “Boo.”


	16. Cosleia: Please write a fic about Cecil helping Janice earn a Girl Scout badge :)

_Cosleia said: Please write a fic about Cecil helping Janice earn a Girl Scout badge :)_

* * *

“So what badge were you thinking about earning?” Cecil asked, leafing through the book of Girl Scout Badges.

“I’m not sure,” his niece admitted. “Maybe Beginner Marksmanship and Gun Safety?”

“I think you’re a little too young for that one, sweetheart!” Steve called from the kitchen. “Pick something else.”

“Maybe you could earn your Ignoring Municipally Un-Approved Information From People Who Don’t Know What They’re Talking About badge.” Cecil suggested, glaring in the direction of Steve’s voice.

“I don’t think that’s a real badge, Uncle Cecil,” Janice said.

“Yes, I know it’s not a real badge,” Cecil sighed. “I am just, as the children say, throwing the shade to your stepfather.”

He turned the page from the Subversive Radio Host badge (Janice was most definitely not ready for that one, and you really only needed it if you thought you were going into radio anyway.) onto the page with the Believing in Science! badge.

“What about this one?” Cecil suggested.

“I don’t know anything about Science.” Janice told him.  
“Yeah,” Cecil nodded. “But my boyfriend Carlos is Scientist, which kind of makes me a Scientist too.”

“I don’t think that follows, Uncle Cecil…” Janice said, furrowing her brow.

“Of course it follows,” Cecil grinned. “I’m a Scientist.”


	17. Cosleia: "I didn't think THAT would happen, but at least it was better than what I was EXPECTING."

_Cosleia said: "I didn't think THAT would happen, but at least it was better than what I was EXPECTING."_

* * *

 

(I hope you don’t mind but I wrote it as a sequel to this: [http://eldertwelvecupsofcoffee.tumblr.com/tagged/it%20has%20been%20so%20long%20since%20i’ve%20earned%20a%20girl%20scout%20badge](http://eldertwelvecupsofcoffee.tumblr.com/tagged/it%20has%20been%20so%20long%20since%20i've%20earned%20a%20girl%20scout%20badge) )

“I didn’t think THAT would happen, but at least it was better than what I was EXPECTING.“ Cecil told his niece, staring at the neon pink sludge that was now covering every surface in his once pristine kitchen. The slime was still oozing out of the test tube he had “borrowed” from Carlos’ lab, and it didn’t show signs of stopping anytime soon.

“What did you think was going to happen?” Janice asked wearily, wiping some of the goo off her wheelchair armrest. She knew that her uncle was always one for imaging fantastical worst-case scenarios, but in her opinion, things didn’t get much more fantastical or worst-case than this.

Cecil shrugged, “I expected it to explode; test tubes are always exploding on TV, I just assumed that was part of basic Science.” 


	18. Doctor-sherly: "It's important, and I want you to have it."

_Doctor-sherly said: "It's important, and I want you to have it."_

* * *

 

“It’s important, and I want you to have it.” Abby said, fastening the necklace around her daughter’s neck. “It was my mother’s.”

Janice nodded, taking the little pendant in her hands. She looked at her mother as if asking permission.

“Go ahead, open it.” Abby prodded. Janice pried the heart open (it was a little stuck after years of being closed), and unfolded it into three sections. She recognized the first photo as being of her mother, and third photo was obviously her Uncle Cecil, but the middle photo was foreign, unfamiliar.

“Who’s this in the middle? Did you have another brother?” Janice asked. Abby peered down at the picture in question.

“You know,” Abby said. “I just don’t know.”


	19. Anon: Please write a fic where Cecil gets sick and Carlos has to go to work so he asks Steve Carlsberg to take care of him

_Anon asked: Please write a fic where Cecil gets sick and Carlos has to go to work so he asks Steve Carlsberg to take care of him_

* * *

 

Cecil was surprisingly receptive to Steve’s caring for him in his less than healthy state. Though Cecil did keep calling him Carlos, so it was altogether plausible that Cecil was too loopy on cough medicine to notice that his brother-in-law was the one bringing him soup and crackers and keeping the cloth on his forehead cool.

“Carlos, I have a confession to make,” Cecil slurred as Steve placed the thermometer underneath his tongue. “And considering that I very well may die, this is the best time to make it.”

“Oh gosh.” Steve muttered under his breath. He didn’t want to receive some horrible information about Cecil’s relationship with Carlos that Carlos apparently didn’t even know. And he wasn’t going to bring up the fact that it was very unlikely that Cecil was going to die.

Cecil’s face was all twisted up in discomfort.

“I actually don’t hate Steve Carlsberg as much as I say I do on the radio.” He blurted.  
“What?” Steve asked, thinking that Cecil must be  _really_  sick to say something like that.

“He’s not really a bad guy,” Cecil continued. “He just says stupid stuff and speaks aloud of forbidden knowledge. Plus, I had to protect Abby and Janice for a long time, and what with her first husband…I go on the defensive with guys she brings home. But Steve is…he’s harmless. He just makes scones and gives hugs, and I think I maybe care about him? Like more than I would have to just because he’s married to my sister.”

Steve blinked, dumbfounded by the sudden outpouring of affection that Cecil had spouted.

“I-” Steve started, only to be cut out by a loud snore from Cecil. “Oh, you fell asleep. Okay.”

He gently pulled the thermometer from his mouth. Cecil was running a fever of a hundred and two. No wonder he was confessing affection for Steve.

Not that Steve wasn’t going to secretly cherish it anyway.

He carefully took Cecil’s glasses off, folding them up and placing them on the bedside table. He pulled the blankets up to Cecil’s chin.

“I care about you too, Cecil.” he said. “I care about you too.”


	20. Chickadddddd: Oranjuice: A New Fragrance by Cecil Palmer

_Chickadddddd said: Oranjuice: A New Fragrance by Cecil Palmer_

* * *

****

“Friggin’ Palmer, ruining my life.” Maureen muttered, kicking one of the dusty gray rocks that sat in on the ground in front of her. “‘Oh, get me some orange juice, Maureen. I won’t even tell you how it’s making people blink in and out of existence.’ This is worse than the Jaws slash fics.”

“Maureen? Is that you?”   
Maureen looked up. It was Dana. She must be in the same desert otherworld her predecessor had become trapped in.

“Yup. It’s me.” She sighed.

“How did you get here?” Dana asked. “And what’s that smell?”

Maureen rolled her eyes, “It’s Oranjuice: A New Fragrance by Cecil Palmer.”

 


	21. Longhairshortfuse: Cecilos 48

_Longhairshortfuse said: Cecilos 48_

* * *

In hindsight, Carlos totally brought this on himself. However, knowing that it was a mistake in hindsight did nothing to ease the pain in his back.

“I am so sorry, Carlos.” Cecil said, handing Carlos a bag of frozen peas.

“Nope, nope,” Carlos said, his voice more of a grunt than anything else, sliding the peas underneath himself. “My fault. Totally my fault. I should have known better.”

“I still shouldn’t have reacted so harshly,” Cecil said. “What if you’d been a Sheriff’s Secret Police Officer? I could have been arrested.”

“Yes, well, in the future we’ll both have things to remember. You, to not freak out when someone startles you,” Carlos said. “And me, not to jump out of closets and yell boo.”


	22. Cosleia: Kevin and Carlos 3

_Cosleia said: Kevin and Carlos 3 (an AU where he reads the letter in time to catch up)_

* * *

“Carlos, wait!” Kevin called after the scientist, running to catch up with him.

“Kevin?” Carlos asked, stopping short beside the rollercoaster that no one could stop and turning to see the bloodied man racing toward him. “What are you doing? Is your show over?”

“Um, sort of.” Kevin said. Carlos noted that that answer was not a yes, and that leaving a show that was in progress was a very unprofessional thing to do and therefore very out of character for Kevin. If he still had his notes and notebooks, he would have marked that down. But he didn’t, so he just thought about it.

“I, um, I don’t understand this letter, Carlos.” Kevin said, pulling the slip of paper out of his pocket. “It made me sad. Do you know how awful sadness is?” He was still smiling, despite the sadness he claimed to feel.

Carlos nodded, “I know something about it.”

“Why are you leaving?” Kevin asked.

“I miss Cecil; he needs me.” Carlos said.

“But Doug and Alicia need you.” Kevin said. “ _I_  need you.”

“I’m sorry, Kevin.” Carlos offered, turning to leave again.

Kevin reached out and caught Carlos’ arm. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Please, don’t leave.”


	23. Chapter 23

“Are you okay in there?” Earl asked, sitting up in bed and looking at the closed bathroom door. He figured Cecil was fine; he knew that his boyfriend was a loud vomiter.

“I’m-” Cecil paused, and Earl heard more retching. “I’m fine.”

“Did you drink too much again?” Earl asked.

“No, I actually ate the food Roger made.” Cecil called back. “Not sure if cooking is really his forte.”

“I’m sorry, Gersh.” Earl sighed. There was another loud noise from the bathroom, and Earl winced in sympathy.

“I haven’t been this sick since you dared me to lick the swing set back in high school.” Cecil remarked.

“I didn’t dare you to lick the swing set.” Earl retorted.

“Yes, you did.” Cecil said. “I remember you saying it.”

“No, I said, ‘Cecil, don’t lick the swing set.’,” Earl corrected. “And you said, ‘Don’t tell me what to do, Harlan.’ and then you licked the swingset.”

“Oh, yeah.” Cecil said. “I remember now.” There was some shuffling in the bathroom, and then the toilet flushed.

“Brush your teeth before you come back in here.” Earl said.

Cecil grumbled out a, “Yes, mom.” But Earl heard the water turn on regardless.

 


	24. Anonymous: "They are not ours, they are no one’s, no one can have them."

_Anonymous: "They are not ours, they are no one’s, no one can have them."_

* * *

“They are not ours, they are no one’s; no one can have them.” Lauren explained to Diego’s turned back. She was out of breath and bloodied from her fight with that teenage girl- what was her name? Tyreesha? Tamika? Tamika.

“Kevin once told me that Night Vale was beautiful.” Diego said, which wasn’t really a response to what Lauren had told him. “He thought it was beautiful, and it got rid of him. He showed it kindness, and it got rid of him. Do you know what this means, Miss Mallard?”

“Uh, no, sir.” Lauren admitted.

Diego turned, “It means, Miss Mallard, that Night Vale must be destroyed.”


	25. Cosleia: Please write a fic about how Cecil and Earl originally met

_Cosleia said: Please write a fic about how Cecil and Earl originally met (over a century ago, apparently)_

* * *

To the untrained eye, Cecil Gershwin Palmer looked like a fragile little boy. The kind of little boy that would fall over if you exhaled in his direction. He wore clunky braces on both bowed legs and had thick coke-bottle glasses that didn’t stay up, so he was constantly pushing them back up the bridge of his nose. He was much too skinny for his height (which was particularly concerning, given the fact that he was not a considerably tall boy.), a mess of gangly limbs that he wasn’t quite sure what to do with.

But the powers that be must have seen something in him, because he received the same scarlet envelope that was usually only sent to the strongest, most physically capable boys. The same scarlet envelope that made his sister’s face scrunch up in concern when he brought it to her, excited to be included in something that the other boys got to do.

Earl Casey Harlan, in comparison, appeared to be the type of boy that usually received one of those scarlet envelopes. He had toned, defined muscles from rough-housing in the sand wastes with the other boys his age. His freckled skin was sun-kissed from thousands of days spent playing outdoors. He was, in all, an unkempt, messy, and athletic child- the kind of child that would, by all accounts, be annoyed by a boy like Cecil Palmer.

So it came as a surprise when Earl Harlan timidly approached Cecil Palmer, who had been sitting by himself off in the corner, when the first scout meeting broke for lunch.

“Hi.” Earl said.

“Hi.” Cecil echoed.

“Can I sit with you?” Earl wondered.

“Sure.” Cecil nodded.

“Where’s your lunch?” Earl inquired, noticing that the bespectacled boy didn’t have a lunch tin beside him.

“My mom didn’t make me one.” Cecil shrugged.

“Oh.” Earl said, feeling bad for reasons he didn’t quite understand. He unfastened the top of his own tin, inspecting its contents for something he could spare.

“Do you, um, do you want a cookie?” Earl asked, pulling out one of the chocolate chip ones his mother had placed in his lunch. He held it out for Cecil to take, but Cecil just stared at it warily.  
  


“For real?” he asked. “You’re not foolin’?”

Earl shook his head, “Not foolin’.” Cecil reached out, taking the cookie in his hand. He took a careful bite.

“Thanks.” He said.

“Any time.” Earl grinned. “I’m Earl, by the way.”

Cecil smiled, “Cecil.”


	26. Generalcupcakery: prompt #8, Cecil and anyone else you want :D

_Generalcupcakery said: prompt #8, Cecil and anyone else you want :D_

* * *

 

Cecil wouldn’t take off his intern shirt. He wore it everywhere, every minute of every day. A lot of people found it endearing (Old Woman Josie, for instance, told him that it was “very cute”), and it kept reminding his mother that she was proud of him (which he thought was neat, even if meant she was still hiding), but it made his older brother scowl. Cecil thought he was just jealous, and he didn’t want to be brought down by his brother’s negativity. He was working in radio; he had to stay positive! Radio professionals were always positive.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard to stay positive.

In fact, it was very hard to stay positive with his older brother staring him down from across the breakfast table.

“Good morning, Simon.” Cecil said, putting on his radio personality.

“Morning, Gersh.” Simon muttered.

“I’m working at the station today, I won’t be home after school.” Cecil offered.

“You’ll never make it in radio, you know,” Simon snapped. “Your voice isn’t right for it.”

“Oh really?” Cecil asked in his normal, cracking, high pitched teenagery voice.

“Yeah, really.” Simon nodded.

Cecil took a deep breath. He’d been practicing, working on getting his voice to break for short periods of time. He bowed his head, looking up at his brother over the tops of his glasses, smirking triumphantly.

And then, in a voice deep enough to make his brother’s eyes go wide, he said, “Wanna bet?” 


	27. Cosleia: Suddenly, he tripped.

_Cosleia said: Suddenly, he tripped._

* * *

 

Steve had planned the whole evening out in meticulous detail. Everything was going to be perfect-he’d made sure of that. The radio was playing their song, he’d made her favorite meal, and she was sitting there, looking more stunning than ever in an orange sundress with her hair pulled back and decorated with yellow flowers that he didn’t know the name of.

All he had to do was walk over to her. That was it; he couldn’t possibly mess this up.

He fumbled with the little velvet box, but when he gripped it firmly in his hand, it somehow made him more confident, a little giddy even.

He was going to do this and not look like fool.

_He was going to do this and not look like a fool._

Suddenly, he tripped.

So much for doing this and not looking like a fool.

“Steve, are you okay?” she asked, looking down at him, a bemused smile on her face.

“I will be,” Steve said, not bothering to get up, just lifting the top off the box. “If you’ll marry me?”

 


End file.
